The Drifter And The Gypsy
by Forbidden.Love.21
Summary: He hated her; truly hated everything about her. x.Hiatus.x.
1. Prologue

_Serendipity (n) 1. An aptitude for making desirable discoveries by accident.  
2. Good fortune; luck. _

He hated her; truly hated everything about her. If it wasn't for the freakin' ability she had of just knowing what he was thinking and feeling; if that wasn't bad enough in itself, it was that new agey crap she always seemed to pull with a side dose of Dr. Phill meets ghost whisperer crap.

"Help ghost," She'd say to him with her hands on her hips, eyebrow raised daring him to shoot it one more time with rock salt. Help ghost his ass; Casper isn't always so friendly and up for a ghost whisper moment like she's so hell bent on having with them.

A prickly sensation hit him like a ton of bricks. "Dean," he felt her behind him before she had even spoke. Her presence in his life was like a big fat smack in the face that he couldn't seem to avoid no matter how hard he tried.

"Yeah?" Even he could hear the aggravated sound that was his voice. He inwardly flinched knowing that she didn't deserve that tone. She didn't deserve anything that he was putting her through.

But there she was standing behind him in nothing but one of his old AC/DC T shirt that looked better on her then it did on him. "Come back to bed," she rested her head on his bare back, "Yeah?" her light accent seemed to make him more anxious then ever. Her arms snaked themselves around his body making him feel suffocated by her proximity.

"We can continue from last night."

"I have to go," He said suddenly, moving himself from her grip. He refused to look in her eyes knowing that he'd see hurt in them, and that wasn't something he couldn't take.

He had a shirt on and was out the door before she ever had a chance to tell him goodbye.


	2. Tshilaba

_10 months earlier._

Dean walked out of the bathroom with only a towel around his waist when he heard Sam enter the motel room. "You get the pie?" He asked with a glint of anticipation in his eyes.

Sam sighed and put a bag on the table, "I got the pie," he said a bit begrudgingly to his brother. "You know Dean, your obsessions with pie isn't healthy."

"Whatever sasquatch, hand it over,"

Sam looked at Dean with bug eyes. "Dude, you're not even dressed."

Dean grinned at his brother, "Details Sammy, details."

Before Sam had a chance to comment a beeping noise went off in the distance; The brothers looked at each other before asking simultaneously, "Is that your phone?"

Dean raised his eyebrow before walking towards were the sound came from. "I had my phone with me," Sam said, "Must be mine then," Dean opened the draw he kept it in, seeing he had voice mail from Bobby, he listened to it frowning, Dean played the message again only this time on loudspeaker so Sam could hear it.

"Bau-Bau? Why does that sound familiar?"

Sam frowned, "It's the Romanian equivalent of a bogeyman."

"Damn it!" Dean said pulling clothes out of his bag, giving his pie one more look before sighing, "Get ready were leaving" He said to Sam before slamming the bathroom door shut to get dressed.

---

"A gypsy faire?" Sam asked again, for the hundredth time not understanding the words out of his brothers mouth.

Dean seemed all to thrilled about the 'half naked chicks belling dancing' to grasp the question that Sam was asking him about the case Bobby wanted them to work.

'Yeah." Dean grinned drumming his fingers on his steering wheel. "You think we'll see a hot chick swallow a sword?" Sam didn't even bother responding to his brother question.

---

"Dude-" Dean pointed towards a man who at the moment was blowing fire out of his mouth.

Sam shook his head, "Who are we looking for?" he asked again for the tenth time. He was regretting letting Dean talk to Bobby. Time was running out, and he still didn't have a lead as to breaking Dean out of his contract.

"Dean!" Sam raised his voice, trying to get his brothers attention.

"Huh? Oh yeah." He shook his head, as if to get himself out of a daze "Madame Tshilaba" Dean laughed, "Who knew Bobby had it in with the Gypsies."

Sam grinned, "Bobby seems to have friends all over the place."

---

"Sam," Dean nodded his head in the direction of a purple tent, Sam raised his eyebrow at Dean. Both wondering what Bobby had got them into.

"Lets go get our fortune told Sammy," Dean joked, "Maybe I'll win the lottery."

Sam felt the familiar pang in his hear, the same thing he always feels anytime someone mentions Dean's future. He followed his brother into the tent, finding the cent of candles and incense to be overwhelming.

The tent seemed to be empty, but the boys kept on alert.

Dean walked towards the center of the tent, which had a small round table he chuckled looking at the crystal ball in the middle.

He stopped at the sight of what seemed to be home made tarot cards, interested he went to pick them up.

"Stop!" Dean's hand froze in midair. "Who are you?" the voice was rough with old age. The heavy accent almost made it impossible to understand.

Dean turned to the person speaking and wasn't surprised to see and old women standing there glaring at him. He could almost feel the heat coming out of her eyes.

"Excuse me Ma'am…" Sam started, the women glare shut him up. "I was not speaking to you." she hissed before pointing to Dean. "Him. He is the one that must answer."

Dean shot Sam a look… "Uh." he scratched his head, wondering what to say "Uh"

"Uh Uh Uh." the old women mocked Dean, "Do you not know how to speak?"

Dean wanted to be mad, but there was something scary about this women. "Yes?" He asked.

"Good then speak," She snapped her fingers. "No more of the 'uh' business."

Sam suppressed a grin.

"I'm Dean Winchester…" A light went on in the old woman eyes but she motioned for him to keep talking. "Our friend Bobby Singer sent us here to help."

She nodded her head and walked as fast as her old bones would allow her to towards her table. "Help you say?"

Dean paused, Didn't Bobby let this Lady know they were coming, he wondered. "Yes."

"If you are here to help as you say, then why were you going to touch my stuff." She asked him, her eyebrow raised. "This-" she motioned with her hands over her table and the objects on it, "This is mine Dean Winchester. To touch it without consent-" she shook her head, "You my son, already have enough darkness in your life. You need no more."

Dean stood stock still wondering what that meant, he didn't have much time to think it through before she saw talking to him again. "Sit." She demanded, motioning to the chair in front of her.

He sat.

She put her cards in front of him. "Shuffle" she stated. He hesitated- hadn't she yelled at him for going to touch them? Noticing her glare he picked them up and began to shuffle.

"When you feel ready set them down." She stated.

Dean nodded not wanting to upset the old women, but he swore when he got off this case he was going to give Bobby hell.

After a moment he stopped and handed them to her. He watched silently as she put the cards down on the time, right to left three in each row. He was surprised at how fast her hands moved.

Just as quick as she put them facedown was she turning them over.

"Ah…" she said.

"What?" Dean asked looking at the cards.

She shook her head at him and put her hand up, palm first telling him to be silent. "You," she snapped her fingers, "You the tall one. Come here."

Sam walked cautiously over. Dean felt smug, glad that it was his brother who now had the attenion of Madame Tshilaba.

She snapped her fingers again, motioning for Sam to lean down. Dean watched as the women whispered into his ear. His face betraying a wide range of emotions, but mostly confusion.

"Do you understand?" She asked, loudly now.

Sam nodded, but still looked confused. "Good. Now Go."

"Where is he going?" Dean asked, watching as his brother shrugged his shoulders and walked out of the tent. It took everything in his power NOT to get up and follow.

"Do not worry about him. He is safe. You worry about you. Yeah?"

Dean didn't say anything, just frowned.

"That is what got you into this mess in the first place Dean Winchester. That is why death clings to you." He raised his eyes to meet her surprised. "Do not be surprised."

"Why, because you know all." He mocked, saying what was on the board outside of the tent. She glared at him. "Because I see all. I see the way death is clinging to you. I can see it all around you. I see what is in your heart. You do not wish to die."

"Good guess lady, but that's not that hard to figure out." What all had Bobby told her anyways he wondered.

She hissed at him, her eyes it seemed to go darker- not black, but darker then their normal brown.

He ignored her and kept talking. "Look, I didn't come here to get my 'fortune' told by some wack job. I'm here to do a favor for my friend. And help you get rid of your boogeyman problem."

She shook her head "There is no Bau-Bau." she said calmly, "If there was I would take care of it myself."

"Then what the hell am I doing here?" Dean asked, for the first time truly angry at the lady in front of him.

"Buncia?" He heard someone say, he turned his head surprised to see Sam but also a girl with Sam. The girl who spoke looked questioningly at Dean, then back to the woman she calls Buncia.

His breath hitched, just for a moment. He couldn't explain what happened when he saw her. It was as if the air in the room got lighter, as if it was easier for him to breath, yet harder all the same.

He wonder briefly he she was a witch and had cast a spell on him.

"Ah," the old women shut her eyes. "My dear Catalina; I known it was going to be you." She sighed sadly "Come here child." She whispered. As if a direct order Catalina went to her side, she knelt to the ground so she was more even with the woman.

"You my Catalina," the woman cried, "You must leave."

The girl looked curiously at the women, but said nothing.

"You must go with them." She said, petting the girls hair.

"Woah-" Dean said, standing up. "Hold on there lady. We don't know her." Not that I'd have a probably getting to know her Dean thought. "Sam, help me out here." Sam turned and looked the other way. Dean frowned in confusion but continued talking. "Look lady, if something is after this girl we can help. But we can't take her with us."

The lady looked at Dean sadly, "You must and will Dean Winchester."

The young girl took a deep breath at the name that was mentioned, Dean shot her a glance but quickly looked back the old woman "And why is that?" he asked cockily.

"She is the only way to save your soul."

* * *

_Reviews? :) _

_& I'm not sure if Bunica is the right word for grandmother? So, If anyone knows let me know. :D _


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